Rose and Nickoli
by sweet krab whacka
Summary: “THAT’S RIGHT Your parents were murdered by that insane scientist guy, right? Wow, do you know what he did to them? He probably slit there throats, trying to see how they worked or something don’t you think?” Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

1

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters that appear in the movie but I hope to some day... :P anyway on to the story.

Rose woke up this morning, exhausted as all get out but she knew she had to get up. On her list of things to do this morning was to go down to the unemployment office and get another social insurance number, someone had stolen her last one while she was on vacation in Germany. She trekked her way to the bathroom and turned on the straightner to smooth her hair out. It was already pretty straight but she did it to smooth out the cowlicks the she had. As she stood there, straightening her hair, she accomplished some of her stretches, just small ones, she didn't like to stretch before she did anything because it pulled muscles but she needed them to wake her up this morning, she had had a very trying day yesterday what with the cuts for the video project coming through. It turns out, after making her perform one last time, the judges picked her as the lead in the project.

She lifted her leg gracefully above her head and rested it on the shelf where she kept little odds and ends for the bathroom like potpourri, etc. Rose's body was small and lithe, built like a tiger, strong muscles in every part of her body. Her total fat in her body was 5. She knew that because every month, her performance school would get tests done to see what was what. One would say that that was a pretty serious and strict school, but Cirque du Soleil has to be strict, otherwise it wouldn't hold such high value with the audience that attend the shows and adore it so much. Rose was in the show Quidam as an Aerial Contortionist. In a nutshell, she is up high in the air and suspended by nothing but a piece of silk in which she twists and turns and creates beautiful movements with.

By now, she was brushing her teeth and getting dressed at the same time, putting on a nice fitting pair of low- rise boot cut jeans, a casual pair of heels, a vibrant pink tube top, and a white blazer jacket over top. She took a tiny butterfly clip out of a draw under the sink and clipped the hair from in front of her face to the crown of her head. Then she put her contact lens' in. This is where she isn't so normal.

Rose's hair was a dark brown, it was so dark that in dim light, it looked black. The underside of her hair, near the bottom half of her head was a blonde, blonde enough to look white. It wasn't that she dyed it to look like that, in fact, it had been like that ever since she could remember. She flashed back to when she was a child and she went shopping with her mother in the grocery store. She looked at one of the other girls out shopping with her mother and then asked her mom a question.

"Mommy, why is my hair different from every other girls? There hair is all one color and mine is two." Her mother had simply looked down at her with her caring brown eyes and said:

"Because dear, your like your father. You know what your father is."

"I miss Daddy, why did he have to go to Russia again? We were just there!"

"Because your older brother decided to go back and look for someone, and Daddy knows that this man is dangerous."

Rose was a very smart child for being only four years old at the time. She had been smarter than all the rest of the kids all her life. The schools that she attended couldn't keep up with her and so she was forced to be home schooled by her father. She didn't mind that, after all, Andrei Sakharov was the smartest man that Rose had ever encountered.

Now, as Rose stepped out of her lonely one bedroom apartment in uptown New York, she thought back sadly on these memories. They never did find her brother, in fact, rose barely remembered his name. It irritated her badly over the last few years that she could forget her own brothers name, but she couldn't think of that now. She walked down the front steps of her building on the cool October morning, most would find it almost cold, but not her. She was used to colder weather than this. She moved to New York three years ago, when she was fifteen, before that, she had lived up in the Northwest Territories in Canada. She loved the cold. After all, her father was part Siberian and Russian, she used to be over in those countries all the time, and she loved it. Now, she was so busy that she couldn't possibly find the time to go back and visit. Her family there didn't like her anyway but she loved the scenery. She was from Kronstadt, Russia. She loved it there, it was so quaint and rustic. Everyone there was so nice to her even when she came, despite her odd appearance.

On top of her hair, her eyes were different from everyone else's too because they were a vivid yellow and brown. The iris was shaped differently as well. It sort of ran in the shape of a huge almond standing upright. As she was about to walk into the Unemployment Agency, her cell phone rang. It was her friend Lilia who was getting married in a few days. As it turns out, she would get to see her home land again! Lilia had just informed her that the wedding was to take place in Russia, in Kronstadt!

"You know that I can't fly though." She spoke to her friend in Russian.

"Yes, I know, I just bought a huge luggage bag, I stow you in it and once the plane is in the air, you can open it for some air." She answered back.

"Are you sure they don't x- ray the luggage."

"I'm positive. Though it would give them a shock to see all that metal in my bag." She laughed heartily.

This was the end of the conversation and Rose stepped into the office building. She sat waiting in a chair when who should walk threw the door but her friend Ryan from Cirque. He knew what she was and accepted her for it. He knew her whole story. He sat down beside her and she excitedly told him about all about her upcoming trip to Russia in french. Russian and French were just two of the many languages she could speak.

They were just getting to the end of their conversation when again a familiar face entered the room. Her name was Stephanie and she didn't know when to shut up.

"Oh. Hi Rose!" She smiled happily and sat down opposite her. "So, who's this? Is he your boyfriend? Hi, I'm Stephanie!" She shook his hand enthusiastically while he looked at Rose for an explanation to this strange person.

"Hi, Stephanie, this is Ryan, my _friend._" She stressed the emphasis on friend.

"So what are you doing here? Are you looking for a job? I would assume such a smart person like yourself would have no problem finding a job!" She asked annoyingly.

"Actually, I have a job, I'm here getting another social insurance number, my last one was stolen." Rose just wished her name would be called and she could leave.

"Oh, that's nice. HEY! Don't you need your parents to sign that for you?" She indicated the slip of paper in Rose's hand.

"Well, no, I can't, my parents are dead. My only legal guardian is somewhere in Russia, I think." She said, referring to her brother.

"THAT'S RIGHT! Your parents were murdered by that insane scientist guy, right? Wow, do you know what he did to them? He probably slit there throats, trying to see how they worked or something don't you think?-"

Ryan, sensing that a change of subject was needed, tried to distract Stephanie.

"So, Stephanie, what are you here for?"

"Oh, I'm looking for a job, my boss fired me from my old one, said I talked too much and annoyed the customers."

"What a stretch." Said Rose coldly. Before anything else could be said, another woman of the same age as Rose walked up.

"Rose." She said in a voice dripping with hatred. Rose looked up.

"Honestly, I don't know that many people, how is it that I can run into all of them in the same room and an UNEMPLOYMENT AGENCY!" She started to yell a little. "Why are you here Claire, did Daddy cut off your credit cards at last?" Rose looked behind Claire at a couple that was holding hands and staring at her, whispering softly about the situation surrounding them, a girl with hair like her own, but only striped with white near the front, and a man, who looked as if he wouldn't like to be anywhere but with this woman.

"No, I -" Claire was cut off just in time. Rose was called into one of the cubicles surrounding them. She stood quickly.

"Your just mad because for once, Daddy's money had no effect and I got in to the Josh Groban tour on my own talent. It also really helped that I didn't have a shitty choreographer do my work for me so that all I had to do was copy it." With that, she turned on her heal and marched into the cubicle.

She walked out of there about five minutes later, she didn't feel like talking to Ryan, Stephanie, or Claire. She hoped Ryan wouldn't take offence to it. She flipped her wrist out with a flourish and read the time, she had forty five minutes to get her clothes for the practice and get there. She looked up at the street signs. She was still about ten blocks away from her apartment. Looking around to see if there was anyone around, Rose put on a burst of speed that wasn't humanly possible. She ran as fast as a tiger. With in minutes, she was outside her apartment building, the Royal Manor. She walked up the front steps and the doorman opened the door for her. It was not her normal doorman, but someone entirely different.


	2. Cirque and strange meetings

1"Who are you?" She asked, slightly out of breath from the run and in a hurry to get up to her apartment, but as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

"My name is Peter. Your normal doorman came down sick so I was pulled in as a replacement. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand for her to shake. She looked him up and down soaking in every feature. His hair was a light, sandy brown, but she could tell it wasn't his real hair color, because he was really pale. He looked so washed out with that color that she was almost positive it was a wig. His eyes were a dark brown and he was wearing contacts, probably needed glasses. His stature was petite, it didn't show any sign of the power she figured he held. She looked at the badge on his shirt. 'Jack'. She looked back into his eyes.

"What was your name again?" She asked, trying to hide the suspicion under a curtain of forgetfulness.

"Joseph, ma'am." He smiled kindly at her and she smiled back, even though her suspicions were correct, although she couldn't figure out why someone would want to pose as a doorman to her building. It wasn't like there was anyone important who lived in the building. Rose turned and walked up the stairs to her apartment, trying to figure out that question.

Joseph, or Peter, whichever his name was, put his hand to his ear and turned to face a wall so no one would see his lips.

"Logan, she's on her way up now, she's taking the stairs, but you had better try and hurry." He spoke into the little microphone hidden under his locks of fake hair above his right ear.

"Yeah, I'll hurry." Came the voice of Wolverine from the other end. What this doorman didn't expect was for Rose to use her speed to get up the stairs. Soon, she was at her apartment, number 19, and unlocking the door. She was glad when she got in the door that her superintendent had just oiled the locks when she found the light in her bedroom on and a sound of someone riffling through her drawers and cursing as he went. Rose hurriedly took off her pointed high heeled shoes and began to tiptoe to her room, the shoes still in her hand, ready to strike. She quietly pushed open the door and raised her arms over her head, shoes heeled end out.

"Just taking a look around I assume?" She dared boldly. The man jumped and suddenly knives appeared in his hands as he whipped around to face her. A shoe dropped from her left hand in surprise and she backed into the leg of her bed, not able to catch herself before she fell to the ground, both shoes now lying motionless and somewhat harmless on the floor. He ran from the room and out the door, away from the apartment. The doorman followed and they ran down the street together.

Rose, thoroughly stunned, got up from the ground and went to look in her drawers see what he could have possibly wanted. It couldn't have been anything from her day job could it? As her day job, Rose worked at a criminologist lab, she is the youngest criminologist in the entire world. Eighteen years old and one of the best paid criminologists in the country. She looked under her pillow, the one place that the thief hadn't managed to check yet, a single piece of the most important evidence to her was still hiding there. It wasn't that the rest of the world found it so important, and the case had already been solved, but it was the last link she had to it. It was a lock of her father's hair that his murderer had ripped out before killing him. That was the only personal item of both her parents that she was able to keep. The rest was given away or shipped back to family members in other countries. The only other thing was a load of money that her father and mother had saved up for her. Over a million dollars was sitting in an offshore bank account, not that she was going to use it. She kept it in case she needed to find a job and was running low on cash or some other emergency. She hadn't used any of it yet, and her mother and father died about five years ago.

Rose didn't have any time to sit there and think how close she was to losing her last piece of home, or rather, she didn't want to. She grabbed her clothing that she needed for practice and headed out to the other side of the city towards the Metropolitan Theater, where practice was being held. She raced there and was just in time for it starting. She ran into the changing room and quickly pulled on her leggings, a pair of spandex shorts and a spaghetti strapped tank top. She took the tiny clip out of her hair and pulled it into a messy bun at the back of her head. She wrapped the tape around her feet as she hobbled out of the room and across the hall to the auditorium.

"Sakharov! Your Late!" Her coach yelled at her. She looked at her watch, it said twelve noon on the dot but she knew better than to argue with him.

"Sorry coach. Are we ready to start?" She threw the tiny roll of tape onto an empty seat and pulled herself gracefully up onto the stage with the strength of her arms.

"Run through it once and then we'll get Groban in here to start." She climbed deftly up her rope of red silk and up into the rafters of the building. Her back up dancers were waiting for her there. One of them was Claire. So Daddy's money worked to a certain extent. The music was played without singing in through the speakers and rose took her place in the center rope, Claire to her left and another girl to her right. Swiftly, full of grace and passion for her movements, feeling every emotion running through the song, she completed the final pose, a single twist of the rope around her waist, and wound around her arm and hanging limp as if dead, a somewhat crucifix-like pose. A beautiful finish. When she opened her eyes, for she had closed them from the emotion in the last position, Josh Groban was sitting in the front row, clapping and standing in the row to give her an encore.

AN: ok guys, what do you think? Please R&R, I'd like to know if I need to add something or explain something, need a bit of romance? More action? WHAT! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME! haha yeah, just comment and I'll see what I can do!

Lyssie


	3. I vant to suck your blood

1Disclaimer: Oh, alright, I don't own anyone from X- Men, just my own characters. Fine, you can turn the tapes and cameras off now. I said it.

Author's Note: Yes, it has been a while since I've posted in this story. I've had a bit of a writer's block but it's gone now and I can write this chapter without struggling too much now.

Chapter three

Practice was finally over, after fourteen hours. Ut was two in the morning and Rose was beginning to feel the effects of the strenuous day. The backup dancers were covered in sweat and breathing heavily. Claire walked by her, talking on her cell phone, and Rose distinctly heard the words, "She isn't even sweating! She acts as if she isn't even tired!" The truth was, Rose was in peak fitness, not just because she was a contortionist, she had always been in shape, it was a part of who she was, she didn't have to work on it, she didn't have to exercise, it was because of what she _could_ be.

Josh decided to go talk to the dancer. He found her slightly attractive, but more than that, the way she interpreted his song, it made it into movements that completely moved him. He cleared his sore throat, coughed, and gulped down the rest of his water as she drank hers. He walked up to her as she began to pack her things back into her bag. He was two feet from her when she picked up her bag and walked into the change room. Slightly embarrassed but never the less determined, e decided to wait for her. Josh began to pace in front of the change room door.

Without warning the door flew open and Rose slammed head long into him, her bag flying through the air and all of its contents sailing in every direction. Josh managed to stay upright but she fell and landed on her side.

"Are you okay?" He moved to help her up. She began to laugh. She wasn't normally this klutzy.

"Yeah, I'm fine, usually I'm a little more graceful." She smiled and took his outstretched hand to help herself stand up.

"I'm sorry, let me help you get your things." They both scattered in different directions to gather her effects.

As she was doing so, Rose noticed a man in full costume lingering with them. She never remembered seeing him before that day, but everywhere she looked he seemed to be there. His costume was really good. He was wearing black leather pants, his chest painted a smoky blue, with ribbed patterns going all over his body and face. His nails were thick and cracked, also blue. His teeth were large and pointed and his eyes were yellow, like hers. His hair was short and dark brown. He even had an anima tronic tail coming from the seat of his pants. She smiled at him and he smiled back, but he looked away shyly.

With Josh's help, everything was now back in place in her oversized duffle bag.

"Thanks." She shook his hand awkwardly, shifting under the weight of her bag. "My name's Rose." He smiled at her, it wasn't his idea of meeting women but if it works it works.

"I'm Josh." There was an awkward pause after this until he broke the silence. "I was watching you perform, your really good." He smiled again.

"Thanks, I guess that was why I was chosen as lead, even though I really didn't want to be."

"Why didn't you want to be? You're the best performer I've ever seen. The way you took all the emotions from the song and made them into a graceful dance of silk and fluid movements was so uplifting, it moved me to the core, my absolute being, Rose laughed at this.

"Boy, you can really tell you are a song writer." She rolled her eyes, thinking he was making fun of her.

Before Josh could reply, Rose's cell phone rang from a pocket in her bag. Wuickly she dug it out knowing exactly where it was and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Rose, where are you? It's Lilia."

"What do you mean where am I?" She asked.

"You are supposed to be on a plane to Russia by now!" Lilia started to panic slightly, wanting her wedding to run smoothly, if her maid of honor was missing, that would not be smooth. In reply to this, Rose swore, checking her watch.

"I just got out of practice, I'll be right there, I just need to run home and pack. I'll catch the next flight." With that, she flipped her phone shut and left Josh standing there, watching as she ran down the hallway and outside into the dark.

Back in her apartment, Logan and "Peter" were rummaging through her apartment again, going as quickly as they could without making a mess. Logan was finishing picking apart the bedroom and Peter was going through the living room. Suddenly, Peter ran into the bedroom, his face stalk white, more then usual.

"What?" Logan started to say, but Peter clapped his hand over his mouth and shoved both of them into the closet, the door slightly ajar. In rushed Rose again, running around frantically. She ran into the bathroom off the bedroom and turned on the shower. Five seconds later, she was back in her room. She began to peel off her clothing. Peter struggled to hide a strangled cry and looked away. Logan kept looking through the crack, knowing he should turn away. Peter looked at him, seeing him staring at her and punched him hard in the shoulder, it ended up hurting him more than Logan but it made him turn his head away. Logan mouthed a silent "Thanks". Rose rushed back into the bathroom and closed the door, getting into the steaming shower. Peter pushed his way out of the closet and began to open random drawers, searching for that lock of hair. He even checked inside the lamp shade on the ceiling, though he figured she wouldn't have hid it there because it would burn the hair. He didn't realise how much of a hurry she was in and two minutes later, Logan grabbed his arm in a vice grip and yanked him back into the closet, closing the door to a crack again. This time, he knew she was going to get dressed so he purposely looked into the dark depth of the closet, and the folds of her clothing. Within seconds, he heard her rushing around the room again, meaning she was done getting dressed. He peeked tentatively through the crack and indeed, she was done, and was now throwing clothes into a suitcase lying open on her bed. Rose moved towards the closet. Logan and Peter had a quick silent tussle and Logan hid behind a long garment bag in the closet and Peter was left to crouch in the darkest corner. She whipped open the door and bent to pick up a shoe box on the floor and throw it on her bed next to the suitcase, then she stood and reached for the very garment bag that was concealing Logan. She was so preoccupied with packing that she didn't even see him standing there, plain as day in the light of her bedroom, right in front of her face. This was the last of her packing, and before she left, she grabbed her pillow from her bed and hucked it across the room. She picked up the lock of hair and stuffed it in her pocket, exiting the room, and the apartment, shutting off all the lights, leaving Peter and Logan in complete darkness. All was silent.

"Under the pillow!" He was shocked he didn't think of it. "I always used to hide my things under my pillow. Jesus, why didn't I think to look there." They both moved out of the closet, Logan contacting Xavier on his phone.

Rose rushed to the teller at the airport, out of breath from running from the other side of the city, her cheeks flushed with the cool air. The line up to get to her was extremely long. It was time for Rose to pull out one of her little stunts. She tapped the man standing in front of her on the shoulder, making her face look drained and sweaty.

" 'Scuse me, sir, I have a really horrible whooping cough, its still at the contagious stage, and I don't want to get you sick. Do you think you could let me go in front of you?" Her voice was raspy from her apparent coughing.

"Bug off!" Was the man's response. Now, Rose began to get impatient. On a normal occasion, she hated to do what she was about to do, but she needed to get on the plane. She took the contacts out of her eyes, showing the true color and shape of the iris. In the airport lighting, they were bright, vivid yellow, shaped like a cat's eye. She let her fangs grow out of her mouth and tapped the man on the shoulder again.

"I really think you should reconsider letting me through, sir." The man turned around with the intent of telling her off again. He took one look at her and stepped back into the man in front of him in surprise. They began to argue. She moved to the woman in front of them.

"Ma'am, may I perform a taste test on your neck for a survey I'm doing?" The women ran screaming for the security guard. Quickly, she moved through the crowd of people, saying things like, "Your skin looks very delicious today", "We gladly feast on those who would subdue us", and reciting the poem, "Awaken to darkness on this place we call Earth, One vampire's bite brings another one's birth. A vampire wakes with blood thirsty needs On the warm rich sensation he feels when he feeds. He stalks in the night like a disastrous beast, And what once was alive will soon be deceased. So when the last bit of sunlight disappears from the sky,  
You better watch out unless you want to die."

Even though she was not a vampire, she knew that people would think she was, just seeing the fangs and the eyes. Finally, the teller had turned around as Rose got to the counter so she had a chance to retreat her fangs and put her blue contacts back in. The teller looked behind Rose, to what was a long line up until about two minutes ago. She shrugged and looked back at her.

"Welcome to Russian Air, may I help you?"

"Yes, when is your next possible flight to Russia?" She asked, in a slight hurry. The woman checked the computer.

"You are in luck. There is a plain about to leave right now. I can hold it if you want a ticket." Rose smiled.

"That would be great! Thank you." After everything was set up, Rose was ushered towards the gateway. Just before she got on, the woman who went for the security guard was back, with the security guard, and he stopped her before she got on the plane.

"That's her! That's HER!" The woman yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Rose.

"I'm who? I beg you pardon, but is there a problem?" She asked.

"Were you threatening this woman with tales that you are a vampire?" He asked, looking extremely tired.

"Oh, gosh, no. I would never do that." Rose put on her most innocent face.

"She's lying!" The woman was hyperventilating. "She had glowing yellow eyes, a- and fangs! She had FANGS!" She clutched at her chest defensively. The security guard sighed deeply and turned to the woman.

"I don't see any fangs, or yellow eyes." Rose chirped in.

"I'm sorry that you thought that, I don't remember seeing you before. Did you happen to have an egg salad sandwich for lunch? From the airport? I heard they were gone bad." Rose patted the woman on the arm consolingly. The woman thought hard for a moment.

"Well, yes, yes I- I did have the egg salad for lunch. Yes, maybe that was it. I'm t-terribly sorry for holding you up, I'm sorry for accusing you so." The security guard patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and offered to buy her a cup of tea as they turned to leave. Rose boarded the plane and took her seat.

"Here, you take the window seat, I hate window seats." The girl sitting in her row said. Rose thanked her and moved into the seat. She was getting extremely tired now, and she looked it. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, bags forming under her eyes. Her young pale skin was growing still more pale with tiredness. Her body was slow in its movements. Everyone was told to buckle up their seatbelts as the plane roared to life and began its short trip down the runway. When they were in the air the stewardess began to hand out pillows and blankets and Rose willingly and gratefully accepted hers.

As she moved to make herself more comfortable, one of her contacts fell out, not having been put it properly after the little scare fest she had.

"Oh crap." She closed her eye while she tried to find it, not wanting to scare the teenage girl next to her.

"What?" The girl asked.

"Oh. Nothing, I just lost my contact." She fished around on her lap and the girl began to help her, looking between the seats and on the floor. Finally, Rose found it and thanked the girl for her help, but the girl did not turn away as she had hoped as she proceeded to clean the contact and put it back in.

"Cool, it's blue." At that moment, as she reached her hand up to put it back in, the lights dimmed and the little bit of light that was left caught in the yellow of her eye, making it glow.

"HOLY SHIT!" The girl yelled and jumped out of her seat, disturbing all of the other passengers aboard the coach part of the plane. The flight attendant rushed up.

"What seems to be the problem?" She asked in a somewhat perturbed voice.

"This chick is creepy, she's not human! I want a different seat." She backed into the seat across the aisle and the man sitting in the seat grumbled.

"I'm sorry, I lost my contact and the light must have glared against my eyes. She just thought she saw something I guess.-"

"I _did_ see something." She yelled loudly. Her fiery red hair seemed to bush wildly about her face and her eyes went wide.

"Now, now, please, you are going to have to keep your voice down, miss."

"It must have been the egg salad sandwiches in the airport, they already got one woman sick. She was hallucinating too." Rose put on a serious face. The stewardess didn't give the girl the chance to talk.

"Oh, dear, that's horrible. I'll give her a seat to herself farther up the plane, don't worry, we'll take care of her." The girl tried to argue but she was ushered away quickly and given a seat to herself.

Rose took a deep breath, dug her mp3 player out of her pocket and put the ear buds into her ears, nice soothing music filled her buzzing mind. Within minutes, everything that had just happened in the last few hours was forgotten as she covered herself in the blanket and laid her head against the pillow as she drifted off to sleep.

Author's Note: Okay first of all, the quotes, "We gladly feast on those who would subdue us." Is from the Addams Family Credo, and the quote, "Awaken to darkness on this place we call Earth,  
One vampire's bite brings another one's birth.  
A vampire wakes with blood thirsty needs  
On the warm rich sensation he feels when he feeds.  
He stalks in the night like a disastrous beast,  
And what once was alive will soon be deceased.   
So when the last bit of sunlight disappears from the sky,  
You better watch out unless you want to die."

Is from Victoria Boatwright.

Thanks for reading, I hoped you all liked it, and please don't forget to review, I want to hear what you think and want me to do with some situations. I like reviewers, their ideas are usually pretty cool. So, as I said, PLEASE R&R! LUV U ALL!

Lyss


	4. Super Genius

1Rose and Nickoli

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from X-Men except the ones that were from my own mind. But one of these days, when I rule the world, I will.

Pinky: What are we going to do tonight, Brain?

Brain: The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Plan to take over the world!

Author's Note: Thank you very much **Jennifer** for reviewing my story, I was beginning to give up hope and stop writing it, but this just goes to show people that I really do respond well to people who comment! THANK YOU! To answer your questions, yes there will be an action seen coming very soon. Hopefully, in this chapter. I have most of it written, if not all, and if it isn't in this chapter, it will most definitely be in the next. As to who 'Peter' really is, that will remain a mystery until later in the story, in the next couple of chapters, so stay tuned! Also, for those who are into Harry Potter, I am probably sometime in the very near future will be putting up a test chapter for a story. If I get five reviews, then I will write the next chapter.

Chapter 4

Twelve hours later, Rose awoke, refreshed and somewhat happy. She folded up the blanket in her obsessive compulsive manner until it was perfect, not a crease in it, and laid it on the seat next to her, placing the pillow gently on top. She did not feel any remorse for scaring the girl, it would just be another name to add to the list of people who were scared of her when one day (and she was sure) her powers would come into the light and everyone would know she was a mutant.

There was a movie playing on the screen at the front of the plane that made her roll her eyes. Of every movie that they could have played, they had to put on Napoleon Dynamite, the most talent less movie of the century. Instead, she opted for checking her emails. She stood to get her Apple notebook computer out of the overhead compartment and set it all up as the flight attendant came around.

"Oh, you're up. I was just about to wake you, you've been out for at least twelve hours." A kind smile graced her aged features.

"Well, the last few days have been quite hectic for me and I needed the rest, but thank you for caring." Rose smiled back.

"You're such a pretty young woman. Gosh, I can't get over it." Her hand fluttered to her cheek as she gasped at Rose, who smiled politely back. The attendant realized she must be making her nervous. "I'm sorry, did you want anything to eat or drink? I can bring you some pasta." She leaned over and picked up the blanket and pillow, tucking it neatly into her cart.

"That would be fine, thank you, and would you happen to have a diet ginger ale?" She suddenly realized how hungry and thirsty she was, not having had anything to eat in almost twenty four hours. The woman wheeled the cart away and within moments, she was back with a plastic tray of pasta and her diet ginger ale.

"Thank you." Rose opened the can and drank half of its contents in one swig.

She snacked on the cold Alfredo pasta as she checked her inbox. A surprisingly low amount of emails greeted her, not that she was complaining, she was on what she viewed as a sort of vacation. Her inbox only held three emails, as compared to the normal twenty some odd. Everyone was always emailing her asking for something and what did she get in return, a pat on the back and the occasional, 'You're so smart, Rose, how did we ever get along without you.'. She opened the first one and saw that it was from her criminology lab back in New York. It said that there was a case she needed to work on. They tried to leave her out of it to give her a break and they knew that she was thousands of feet in the air, but they had exhausted every possible piece of evidence and every other criminologist in the country had tried a hand at it, and they couldn't figure it out, so she gave it a try. This case was all about a murder that happened a few days ago. This particular murder looked like the work of an infamous mass murderer who left the victims bodies lying in the same way. The only problem was that the murderer had a reliable alibi, that being in jail for life at the time. She examined every aspect of the crime scene, down to the very last measurement, comparing it to those of the serial killer. They were both very similar, but she found that even though both victims died of asphyxiation due to strangulation, the mass murderer used a telephone cord to strangle his victims before stabbing their chests in the shape of a triangle, from left collar bone, to right collar bone, to the belly button, the suspect used a small piece of rope to kill his victim, leaving striation marks around the neck different from those of the serial killer, and the wounds were in the same pattern, but the last wound to the belly button was slightly above the belly button, which meant that these were not done by the same killer. She made note of this in an email she was forming as she went. The second piece of evidence she found was that the markings done in the victims blood on the hardwood floors were the same in every way, but that the way the lines crossed over each other, as if someone wrote a 't' and then another person wrote a 't' they might write it both very differently. These lines were crossed in separate directions when she compared it to the killer and the suspect. Who were now not one in the same. Also in the design on the floor, she noticed that the serial killer was right handed, so the thickest side of the line of blood would have been his left. The most reason one, the thickest side was on the right, meaning that the suspect they were looking for was left handed, and so it couldn't have been the infamous murderer who would have had to escape from jail just to commit this murder, it was a different man who had created this scene; and it was definitely a man, she was sure of that because of the thickness of the lines of blood, they were too thick to be drawn with a woman's hand. She made note of this as well in the email and sent it to the lab.

The next email was from Vladimir Putin. He had heard that she would be in Russia for a while and so invited her to attend dinner with him in his home. She politely declined his offer, as it was the same night as the reception for her friend, who was more important than politics by any standards. She wrote the entire email to him in Russian.

Finally she got to her third email, as there was only an hour left until the plane landed, she looked at the title of the email and read that it was from President Bush of the United States. Rose tried desperately hard not to shiver and roll her eyes, she hated Bush and had not the faintest clue as to why he would be emailing her. She decided to check that one on the train and opted to play games until it was time to get off.

She waited patiently in line for her baggage, getting shunted along like she was a tourist. After almost everyone else had left, she found her bags and began to hall them toward the desk where she would be renting a car. Before she got there, she sat at an abandoned bench area and unzipped her suitcase, pulling out a hair elastic to tie her messy hair up with so that she looked more presentable and her warm jacket. It was down feather black jacket with Russian writing sliding down the sleeves in a vivid red color.

She had to speak Russian the entire time with these men, to show them that she deserved respect, she was from here, and they could tell. She made arrangements for one of the employees to ride with her to the train station to take the car back to the agency after she left. The employee happened to be a happy, plump, middle aged man who entertained for the half hour drive to the station by regaling her with tales of his children. When she arrived at her destination, the man shook her hand, said, 'Dasvedanya' which, translated into English means 'goodbye' and left.

She entered the warm, crowded station that smelled strongly of urine and retrieved her ticket from the ticket master, finding that her train was making its last call that moment. With all her luggage in tow, she climbed the slippery steps of the train to her waiting compartment. She had hoped she would be alone, but her hopes were dashed when a figure wearing red lense, black framed sunglasses lurked into view in her carriage. She opened the sliding door and realized what an impression she must be making in her oversized gray sweat pants, and baggy, wholly blue shirt, her jacket hanging open around her shoulders. He apparently didn't seem to care.

"Hi" He said, not caring if she could speak English.

"Hello" she said back, hanging up her jacket and sitting down as the train began to roll and chug down the tracks, out of the well-lit station and into the darkness full of snow and flurries across the window.

"Good, you do speak English, otherwise, that would have made this trip a little boring." He smiled. "I'm Scott." He held out his hand.

"Rose." She shook his hand and took out her notebook again, mentally preparing herself to check that one dreaded email.

In that short span of time, she received another email from a scholar and relic hunter in Germany asking her to verify a letter that was found under an old abandoned temple floor. She carbon dated the paper and ink and found that it was written around 965 ce. She emailed all of this information back to him in German.

She clicked onto Bush's email and found that he wanted her to do his taxes for him. She managed a little laugh at this, and when she wrote back, she disinclined to accept his request: "I am very sorry Mr. President, but I refuse to do your taxes for you. If I were you (and I am thankful that I am not), I would get someone inside your inner circle to do them. I couldn't possibly figure out what I was supposed to do because I'm afraid all of your information would be full of holes. Do not force me, Mr. President, to remember the time that I caught you handing dirty money under the table to a member of your Senate. If I did happen to remember, I think I would be quite shocked, I think I would have to tell somebody, or a lot of somebodies; and how would the whole of the United States of America like to find out that the man they admire and look up to most, the man they adore, is also a man of trickery, forgery, lies and deceit, a man who is nothing more than a criminal. I do not think they would like that very much. So, to sum it up for you, your Most Highness, I will not do your taxes, and please do not ask me again, this little bit of information that I just displayed, is not all the dirt I have on you, I know more about you than you think, so do not take me for granted as you are now.

"In closing, have a lovely day, Mr. President, and go wash the blood off your hands before it stains more than it already has.

Sincerely,

Rose Sakharov"

Scott decided he wanted to talk more with her as she was writing this email and she let him.

"So, what are you typing?" He asked curiously. She did not look up from the computer screen.

"A letter to the President of the United States of America." She continued with her typing as if she hadn't been disturbed.

"Oh, I see." He laughed a little chuckle. "What are you campaigning for? Save the monkeys?" He suppressed another laugh. She looked up for the first time and stopped typing momentarily. She gave him a dirty look and then went on typing.

"He wants me to do his taxes." He was silent for a moment, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"So, what are you? Some kind of 'Super Genius'?"

"I prefer 'Intellectually Superior'."

"Do you have any degrees?"

"I have a PhD in psychology, and a masters in entomology, chemistry, biology, physics, among others."

"You can't be that old either, can you."

I'm eighteen. I finished high school when I was ten and completed university when I was fourteen. I've been working for the New York CSI's for a couple of years now."

"WOW! Like the television show CSI?" She looked up at him again.

"Yes, sort of."

"What do you do for them? Do you dissect the bodies?" He made a stabbing motion with his finger.

"No, that's what a pathologist does, I'm a criminologist and also an entomologist."

"What do they do?"

"A criminologist is the person who goes to the crime scene and picks up all the evidence and analyzes it, but if there is a hair or something with DNA or anything like that, they send it off to the lab to analyze. An entomologist is a person who knows the study of insects, if on a dead body, they find maggots, they can identify how old the body is by determining the growth stage of the maggots."

"Cool." Was all he said to this bit of information. "So does this brain thing run in your family?"He asked.

"I got them from my father if that's what you mean."

"What is your father's name? If he's as smart as you, maybe I've heard of him."

"His name was Andrei Sakharov." She paused a moment in her typing, letting herself remember his smell. It filled her nostrils, the soft sweet scent of tobacco and soap. She took a big whiff and then brought herself back to the present.

"Sakharov? Jeez, if I'd have known you were a Sakharov there wouldn't be any of this 'Are you a super genius?' stuff!" He marveled to himself quietly. "Didn't he get him and his wife killed?-" He paused, knowing he had crosse a line and wished he could take it back. "I'm sorry, those were your parents. I shouldn't have..." He let his voice trail.

"It's okay. Yes, he was killed, and so was my mother. He knew to much for his own good sometimes, and this one definitely got him into trouble."

"Did the police ever find out who murdered him?" Rose allowed herself a laugh, but it was cold and shrewd, on the verge of tears, she hated reliving it, but what was more, she hated people knowing that it got to her.

"The police are to stupid to figure anything out. That's why they have a stupid name like 'police'. At the time, I was working for CSI: New York, but only as an intern. I was twelve. When they refused to let me help them figure out the case because I wasn't finished my schooling yet and it involved my parents, I went in to analyze the scene in the middle of the night, when I knew there would be no one there. Then, I went into the lab and analyzed everything. I figured out who the killer was. I knew I was probably going to lose my internship but I now knew everything I wanted to know. They kept me anyway after that and hired me to become a full time criminologist even though I wasn't quite finished my degrees yet."

"So, who killed them, if you don't, mind me asking?"

"Have you ever heard of William Stryker?" She had now abandoned her letter and was talking straight to his face.

"Stryker? The Senate Stryker?" He didn't sound surprised, but maybe he thought Stryker was a bad man to begin with.

"Yes, he was the one who murdered my parents."

"Well, why isn't he in jail, why isn't this out in the open?"

"Mr. Stryker is protected by the law and one of the most powerful men in the world, the President of the United States. The American government controls the media, if they do not want something to leak into the public knowledge, then it won't."

"But, what about the mutants, they didn't want anybody to know about them?"

"There were too many witness to live down that one, but there are things about mutants that nobody but the President and selected others know."

"Yourself included?" He seemed skeptical.

"Yes."

As if to add effect, the power in the train went out, leaving everything in darkness, except for the light of her computer screen.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"I have an idea." Scott stood quickly. Rose's computer screen started to flicker and die.

"What?..." She asked herself more than him. People were screaming all up and down the train.

Author's Note: Sooo, what did you think? I applaud you if you got this far, I know, it was a little bit of a boring chapter, but now, we can get into the action bits. **PLEASE R&R!**


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